Page 211 of Bossy Hero

“Why did you stay, Ma? All those years with Dad. Why?”

Almost instantly, my sinuses sting with incoming tears.

I wasn’t expectingthisquestion. I probably should have been, though.

Leo’s about to become a father, so it’s only natural to reflect on your childhood and the example your parents provided.

After releasing a weary breath, I attempt to rationalize a lifetime of actions that don’t deserve the effort required for justification. “That’s a very difficult question for me to answer. No matter how much time I’ve spent asking myself the same thing, I’ve never come up with a reason that isn’t as flimsy as a soggy piece of paper.”

“Can you try? I don’t care if the reasons are weak. I just need to know where your head was.”

Now it’s my turn to laugh darkly. “Where my head was?Ha. You tell funny jokes, son.”

Still scoffing, I shake my head and grumble, “If my mind were functional at the time, things would have been very different for us. But that’s the thing about situations like these—they aren’t logical. They’re emotional. And the parts thatshouldbe logical—the things we know and believe—are often clouded with lies. Some we tell ourselves, and others are spoken by those who hurt us. Oddly enough, those are the words we should distrust the most, but we tend to put more weight on them than all the others.”

“That’s true,” he mutters. “Sadly, it doesn’t make it easier for me to digest. I just don’t understand how you could do that to yourself for so long.”

“Leo, you’re trying to make sense of something senseless. As luck would have it, I’m a bit of an expert in that, so I’ll tell you what I’ve learned.” I grab his hand, aching to comfort him and soothe myself simultaneously. “I never talked to you about this, but your sister knows, so it’s possible you do as well. I know you kids talk.”

I pause for a beat before finishing my thought. “Uh... my father was very similar to yours.”

He offers a dip of his head to signal his understanding.

“That behavior tends to repeat. And you saw what happened to your sister with Craig.” I grit my teeth, detesting the taste of his name on my tongue. “She found someone like her father, which is exactly what I did when I married Travis. As they say, it’s a cycle.”

My head slopes at an angle, and my eyes study the popcorn ceiling. “You know what I’ve always found strange about the cycle thing?”

He shakes his head.

“I didn’t go out there and advertise myself as a victim in need of someone to treat me as horribly as my father did. Yet he found me anyway. I don’t understand how abusers know who is so susceptible.”

“That’s what predators do. If we knew exactly how they did it, we’d be able to avoid it.”

“Good point.” I moisten my rapidly drying lips. “Before I knew it, I was trapped and utterly stripped of power. Barren of what little sense of self I came into the relationship with. He was so powerful, and I was weak. And no matter how scared I wasofhim, I was even more terrified ofleavinghim.” I raise my index finger, emphasizing the point. “Not fear of being without him. The act of breaking free was far more harrowing. I’d convinced myself staying was safer.”

My tender-souled son listens openly and patiently, seeming to hang on my every word. There’s no trace of judgment tainting his expression.

“Time moves so fast, especially when you’re living in a hell like that. Next thing I know, I’m a mother. Three times over.” I intensify my gaze, coating it with warmth and sincerity. “Pleasedon’t take this next part as blame in any way, shape, or form. I wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

Again, he offers a single nod of understanding.

“Once I had you three, leaving was even more daunting. It wasn’t only my life on the line. And he used my love for you three against me. He knew exactly what buttons to press to get me to stay with him or not fight back. I thought I’d lose you. He convinced me that I wasn’t a fit mother and that no court would ever grant me custody. Then what would I do?”

I shrug, lip jutting into a pout I can’t restrain. “His power over me and the fear he inspired spiraled until I was in so deep I couldn’t see the surface.” Picking up the ball of yarn from my lap, I hold it between us. “It was like I was in the center of this. Only it wasn’t soft and fluffy strands surrounding me. They were bands of barbed wire. So I curled up tight in that ball and hid. I hid from him. From the truth. And even from myself.”

His face crumples. “I’m so sorry, Mom. I wish I got you out sooner.”

“Nobody can pull someone out of an abusive marriage, Leo. It wasn’t on you to save me. I had to save myself. Otherwise, the wheels on the cycle would keep right on spinning.”

“You sound like my therapist.”

“You asked why I stayed.” Gulping, I blink through a sheen of tears. “At the end of the day, I think it boils down to love.”

Leo shakes his head vehemently, visibly offended by my assertion. “Oh, so because you loved him, he could knock you around whenever he felt like it? That’snotlove.”

I squeeze his hand. “No, son. You misunderstand me. It wasn’t love for him that made me stay. It was a lack of love for myself. I didn’t love myself or believe I was worthy of healthy love. And even if I’d have thought I was, I wouldn’t have known what it looked like in the first place. Of course, these weren’t things I consciously thought. But they were there, underneath the surface, driving my actions. Orinactions, in this case.”

A lone tear streams down my cheek.

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